Brand New
by MissFantabulous
Summary: Will stopped breathing, his face suddenly flushed, the skin where her lips had touched seemingly burning. He had no words, and simply nodded, backing away from her car as she stepped inside and pulled out of the parking lot. Wemma, of course :D
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So this idea has been playing in my mind for a little while now, and while I was only planning on making the idea a one-shot, I think I have an idea of where I could take this. I spent a couple hours on this today (and I'm already working on chapter 2) as opposed to writing the two papers I need to submit by Friday, ha. But this is way more fun to write, especially because I've been in need of some Wemma since I'm still (like you all probably are, too) anticipating RHGS and particularly "Touch-A Touch-A." I really hope that whole scene isn't another fantasy thing a la "Like A Virgin" -.-

Anyway, I'm ranting :P I hope you guys enjoy this! Feel free to leave me reviews as to what you'd like to see in the future, I'll do my best to incorporate it :) -Natalie

* * *

If avoiding was an art form, Will Schuester would be the Da Vinci of our time.

He stood from the chair behind his desk, haphazardly stuffing a handful of sheet music inside his bag, as he checked his watch and yawned loudly.

The glee club was approaching Sectionals again so late nights had become routine, but if he was honest with himself, it was also part of his carefully drawn-out plan to avoid Emma at all costs.

He sighed lightly, pulling the strap of his bag up over his shoulder. It had been almost a month since Carl had confronted him "bro to bro" and told him, essentially, that he needed to back off of Emma. He knew it was fair, as she had never once tried to compromise his relationship with Terri, and the few times they had come close, she was the one to stop it. As much as it hurt to admit, he knew that her relationship with Carl was just as real as his had been with Terri, and he owed it to her to back down for a bit.

He had considered giving up on her entirely, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She had waited for him for so long, and now, he figured, it was his turn to wait.

Will shut off the light in his office and made his way out into the silent corridor. He hated being here so late; at night the school was eerie and a little too quiet for his taste, but it was definitely more comfortable than going home to an empty apartment and spending the evening wallowing in heartbreak.

His steps were fast, as thoughts of every horror movie he'd ever seen flashed through his mind. He knew it was kind of silly for a 30 year old man to be afraid of a serial killer appearing in an empty school hallway, but hey, it's not like there was anyone around to judge, so he quickened his pace.

Will turned, making his way towards the front of the school. He had almost reached the double doors when something made him stop in his tracks. A sob…and then a sniffle echoed lightly throughout the hallway. He frowned and checked his watch again. Who else would be here? Figgins? Sue?

His brow furrowed as he cautiously walked back the way he had just come, and then his eyes widened as he realized where the sound was coming from.

_Emma_, his mind hissed.

He all but ran to the door to her office. The blinds were closed, as they were every afternoon when she left, but the door was open. He stepped inside quietly and swore he felt his heart broke all over again.

Her face was buried in her hands, sobs wracking her body violently. She sat, slumped, on the floor, her legs tucked under her, her back resting against the metal filing cabinet.

"Emma?" he questioned softly, taking another small step forward.

Her head shot up instantly and she stared at me with wide eyes. "Will."

"I…what are you doing here? It's late," he said, not daring to move any closer.

She shook her head and pushed herself up from where she was sitting, too distraught to even care about the germs. He watched as she walked to the other side of her office, grabbing a tissue from a box placed on the shelf behind her desk.

"N-nothing, I came to pick up some…files," she answered lamely, wiping her damp cheeks and grimacing at the napkin that had cleaned up most of her running mascara.

His face contorted into confusion and hurt as he watched her fidget nervously, pretending to gather a few stacks of paper. There was a time—what felt like eons ago –when he was the first person she would talk to about anything. Now she had Carl for that.

_Carl_, he thought with a frown.

Will's face reddened with anger at the thought of Carl hurting Emma. Clenching his jaw tightly and swallowing back a wave of fury as his mind started racing, he walked towards her.

"Emma?"

She avoided his gaze as she continued to open drawers and grab papers, stacking them on her desk. He made his way to the front of her desk, and then to the side, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Em, please. What's wrong?"

She flinched slightly at his touch and took a step back, knocking over the pile of papers she'd been – for once – carelessly placing on her desk. Her body shook slightly with more tears as she bent down awkwardly in her skirt to retrieve the loose papers.

Ignoring the rejection he felt to her reaction to his touch, Will stooped down to help her. He heard her cursing quietly under her breath and he couldn't help the tiny smirk that made its way onto his lips…until she turned slightly and he saw fresh tears streaming down her gorgeous face.

They both stood and he grasped her upper arm gently. "Emma…"

She finally faced him fully, and he felt tears pricking his eyes at the sight. Her chin was quivering, her eyes swollen and red, she was biting her lower lip gently, and her cheeks were stained with tears and eye make-up. Their eyes met and he felt her crumble in his arms as a sob escaped her lips.

Will pulled her tightly to him, one hand tangled in her hair, the other pressed firmly on her lower back. She cried loudly, furiously, against his chest, her hands balling up his cardigan roughly. He shut his eyes and pulled her tighter against me.

He loved the way she felt in his arms. There had only been a handful of times where he had gotten to relish the way her body felt pressed up against his, and as guilty as it made him feel benefitting from her pain, Will had to say, he was enjoying the closeness.

They stood there together for a while—exactly how long? he wasn't sure; a sense of time always seemed to escape him when they were together—until her loud sobs turned into quiet sniffles.

Emma pulled away from him slightly, and he slowly guided her down to her chair. She slumped back against it, exhausted. He squatted down before her, hesitating before placing his hands on her knees.

"Sorry about that," she said softly.

He opened his mouth to question her, when she motioned to his sweater with a sheepish smile. Will pulled it away from his chest with one hand to get a better look at the now-wet area, and shrugged.

"It's alright," he said, returning her small smile.

He noticed her body tense again and he frowned. "Em…what's going on?"

Her eyes met his, briefly, and then she turned away.

"Please, Emma," he pleaded, reaching up to brush her bangs out of her face before he could think twice. "It kills me seeing you like this."

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "I—"

"Is it Carl?" Will blurted out untactfully. "Because, I swear, if he hurt you, I'll—"

He stopped, noticing her angry glare. He removed his hands from her knees and stood, staring at the floor.

_So it wasn't Carl, _he thought, feelings of disappointment drowning out his confusion.

"You think Carl's the only reason I would have to cry?"

He looked up, startled by her question. "I… No, I just thought—"

"You thought what, Will?" Emma pushed herself up from her chair, taking a step towards him. "That the only important thing in my life is my boyfriend, and I'm so shallow that I don't care about anything else, anyone else?"

His eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, no… Emma, that's not what I meant. I just—"

"You thought that the reason I was crying _had_ to be about Carl because no one else means anything to me? Is that it?" she asked menacingly, her eyes glazed over with a fresh set of tears.

Again, he shook his head. "Emma, no… I guess I jumped to conclusions, I'm sorry. I don't think you're shallow, or that you don't care about anyone else. I just wanted to help… really."

Her eyes softened slightly, but before she said anything, she turned away from him.

"Em?" Will reached out, touching her wrist gently, ignoring the spark he felt run through his veins. "Please, let me help you. I want to help."

He carefully wrapped his hand around her wrist, tugging lightly, willing her to face him again. She turned slowly on her heels, biting her bottom lip, her eyes glued to the floor.

"He's all I had, Will."

Will frowned, confused. "Carl?" She shot up an angry glare at me and he quickly apologized.

She didn't say anything for a few moments, gathering up her nerve to finally tell him what was making her so upset. Will took the opportunity to slide his hand into hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She leaned her back against the wall and slid down slowly, still holding onto his hand. He almost didn't hear when she finally uttered…

"Daddy."

He blinked a few times, opening and closing his mouth, at a loss. "Em, I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

Her eyes were transfixed on a spot on the horribly-chosen speckled tile between them. "He stopped to help a driver on the side of the road… the guy needed a jump…"

His thumb ran in gentle circles against her hand, encouraging her to continue. He watched as she fidgeted in her seat, quickly brushing away the tears that had escaped yet again.

"Daddy went to get the cables from his trunk," she paused, her voice cracking slightly. "And when he turned around, the guy had a gun pointed to his head."

Emma shut her eyes tightly, several tears streaming down her face. Will reached over and brushed them away with his thumb, letting it linger on her cheek for slightly longer than necessary.

"The doctor called me because Mama's too sick to understand, and I couldn't bear to just be at home. I drove for hours, going everywhere…going nowhere," she paused, letting out a bitter laugh. "But I can't…"

He looked at her, confused. "You can't what?"

"I-I just can't, Will."

"Baby, you can't what?"

They both paused at his slip of the tongue, brown eyes locking with hazel. He braced himself for another harsh glare, but instead she smiled softly, which he instantly found himself returning.

Her face dropped slightly as she continued. "I can't tell Mama. I can't go back there…"

Will was certain he wouldn't have heard the next thing she said if it hadn't been for their close proximity.

"I can't break her heart."

Emma's body shook again with sobs and he leaned forward, pulling her towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the junction where his neck met his chest. He rocked her back and forth lightly, whispering anything—and nothing, really—in her ear.

After several tearful minutes, Emma pulled away from Will and leaned back against the wall, running a shaky hand through her hair. "I don't know what to do, Will."

"I think," he paused, leaning against the wall as well, before quietly continuing. "I think you know exactly what you have to do."

She looked over at him for a few moments and nodded slightly. "Mama needs me," she said more to herself than to him.

Will smiled slightly and draped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her to his side. He was grateful when she rested her head on his shoulder, and he grinned when he felt her sigh quietly.

"Come with me."

It was Will's turn to pull away from her. He glanced down at the red-head, a little surprised by her proposition. She looked up at him with nervous eyes, but beyond the nerves, Will saw, was a glimmer of hope.

"I… If you really want me to go," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I'm here for you one hundred percent, Em..."

They sat in an awkward silence. Emma slumped down slightly against the wall, before looking back up at him.

"But?"

Will's brow furrowed. "What?"

"You're here for me one hundred percent, but what?"

Will shut his eyes briefly, before opening them and meeting her gaze. "But wouldn't you rather take Carl?"

Emma opened her mouth, then closed it…then opened it again. "I- I didn't even think about that."

Will couldn't help the small feeling of victory in his mind knowing that she hadn't even remembered her dentist boyfriend, but he nodded, realizing that going with Emma back home to Virginia probably wasn't the best idea, as much as he wanted to be there for her.

"I think I'll go on my own," she said softly.

He looked at her sympathetically. "Are you sure, Em? It might be better for you to have someone there with you; to support you and help you make funeral—"

Will stopped immediately, noticing Emma's widened, teary stare. "Oh God, Emma, I'm sorry. I wasn't—"

She waved him off and smiled sadly at him. "It's okay, Will, I know what I'm going home to."

He sighed and tucked her bangs behind her ear. "If you really want me to go, I can," he stopped, thinking quickly. "I can probably ask Rachel to just take over Glee for a week or so. The kids already know the routine, they just need to keep rehear—"

"I totally forgot about Sectionals," Emma said suddenly, her eyes wide. "Oh, no, Will, you have to stay here. Those kids need you."

He eyed her, knowing she was right, but not quite willing to concede yet.

"Really, Will. My sister and her husband will be around, and my brother's still serving his extended tour, but his wife and kids are flying in, I think. I-I can do—" she paused after her quick ramble, exhaling slightly. "I can do this on my own."

Will nodded once again, sadly realizing he didn't really know as much about Emma as he thought he did, and checked his watch. Pushing himself up from the floor and his thoughts behind, he extended a hand to Emma. She smiled lightly and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up.

They stood closer than they had in a long time—excluding the embraces they had just shared—and Will felt his breath hitch in his throat as he looked down at her. Her breath felt warm on his face and her chest was a mere inch or two from pressing against his. Will found himself biting the inside of his cheek, trying desperately to resist the urge to kiss her.

"I guess…" Emma trailed off, her glance shooting down to his lips for a moment. Will smirked a little realizing she was as nervous as he was. "I guess I should go...book a flight and pack and," she paused again, and Will couldn't help but be reminded of that evening in the science room when he had conducted his "experiment" on her.

Will smirked at the memory and nodded at her. "Yeah, um," he fumbled verbally. "If-if you need anything, feel free to call me."

Emma gulped and nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

They stood before each other, gazing in silence. Will felt Emma's hand sneak into his and he squeezed it lightly. Quietly, they gathered their things, shut off the light, and made their way out of Emma's office hand in hand.

Will inwardly groaned as they reached her car, parked two spaces away from his, knowing that this very well could be the last time he held her hand. He watched as she placed her purse in her car, wishing she would move slower so their moment would last longer.

Before he knew it, she turned, and faced him once more, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Thank you, Will" she whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

Will stopped breathing, his face suddenly flushed, the skin where her lips had touched seemingly burning. He had no words, and simply nodded, backing away from her car as she stepped inside and pulled out of the parking lot.

It was only then that Will began breathing again, his eyes fixated on the spot where her car had just been. He closed his eyes, hoping he would hear from her soon, and more than anything, hoping that she would be okay.

* * *

**A/N: **I haven't even proofread this since I'm so anxious to post it, so please excuse any errors on my part :B

Review :D?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hey guys! Thank you so much for all the reviews :) I've re-written this chapter like 8 times already and I'm still a little on the fence about it, but I figured I owed it to you guys to update. There isn't _too_ much Wemma in this chapter, I'll warn you now, but I'm getting to it, I promise! Again, this is un-beta'd so bear with me :P Enjoy!

* * *

It had been three days. Three dreadfully long, no-word-from-Emma days.

Will had tried burying himself in his work, but try as he might, there wasn't much work left to do for Sectionals, and he had finished grading all the work and projects for his Spanish class in a little over three hours.

He leaned back on his sofa, bringing his bare feet up to rest on the coffee table before him, as he reached for the remote, clicking it on and absentmindedly flipping through the channels.

Will sighed, finally deciding to watch the news and catch up on some current events. He half-listened as Rod Remington introduced Sue and she spewed out some nonsense that Will found himself rolling his eyes at every few seconds.

Will's stomach growled loudly and he moved to stand. He reached for the remote, about to turn off the television, when a "Breaking News" alert flashed across the screen. He leaned forward in his seat, his forearms resting on his thighs as he listened curiously.

"Ohio Police now have the suspect in Virginia's murder case in custody. Morgan County officials are questioning Ronald Hughes, the prime suspect in the highly publicized Virginia murder case of retired officer, Robert Pillsbury. Police found the suspect crossing the West Virginia-Ohio state lines after a three-day manhunt. Officer Pillsbury's body was found by the side of State Route 10 on Monday afternoon, after suffering four gunshot wounds to the head. His funeral procession is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Richmond County Police will be taking over the investigation—"

Will shut off the television and ran a hand over his face.

_I don't know Emma's father was a police officer,_ he thought. He sighed, once again realizing that he didn't quite know Emma as well as he had believed…

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a loud buzzing noise. He reached into his bag that had been thrown carelessly on the floor, hoping it was Emma calling. He glanced down at the screen and frowned at the unfamiliar number.

Sighing, Will slumped back down on his couch. He flipped open the phone, and asked wearily, "Hello?"

"Will?"

Will instantly sat up as he heard the voice on the other end. "Carl?"

"Uh, yeah," he heard Carl chuckle nervously. "Listen, this is kind of weird to ask, but uh, do you know where Emma is? I've been calling her, but she won't answer, and I stopped by her place last night and she wasn't there," he paused before adding with a small laugh, "I'm this close to putting out a missing persons report for her."

Will blinked in confusion. Emma hadn't told Carl that she was going back home?

"Um, she went home…to Virginia for a week or so."

"Oh…"

The two men sat in silence, each clutching his phone to his ear patiently. Finally, when Will decided to speak, Carl did as well.

"Oh, no, go ahead," Will said awkwardly.

"Right, uh…" Carl paused, and Will imagined him pacing in his small office. "Do you know why she left?"

Will closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "Her father passed away on Monday."

"Oh," the darker hair man said, a little surprised. "I thought she was running away from me," he added with a chuckle.

Will forced a small laugh, to appease him, and shook his head. "Nope."

"Have you heard from her?" Carl asked, hope laced in his voice.

"I haven't, no."

Again, the two fell into an uncomfortable silence. Will was about to bid the older man farewell when Carl suddenly spoke.

"I wonder why she didn't tell me she was leaving."

Again, Will closed his eyes, knowing where this was going. "She found out so suddenly, the only reason I know is because I happened to be at school when she heard the news."

Carl remained silent for a few moments before clearing his throat. "Right. If you hear from her, do you think you could tell her to call me?"

"Yeah, sure," Will said slowly. He was about to ask if Carl could do the same for him, but he refrained. Asking Emma's boyfriend to tell her to call her ex-boyfriend didn't quite seem like a good idea.

"Thanks, Will."

The two quickly exchanged goodbyes and Will shut his phone. He leaned his head back to rest on the top of the couch. After several minutes of internal debate, he flipped open his phone once more and quickly punched several keys, sending the text before he could decide against it.

He sighed and soon found his eyelids growing heavier and heavier…

* * *

"What about this one, Mama?"

Emma turned, holding up a hanger in front of her mother. Barbara Pillsbury stood, her frail hands traveling over the black fabric lightly.

"Oh, I like this one," she said softly. "But Emmy, where are we going?"

Emma shut her eyes briefly and swallowed back a wave of tears. "Nowhere, Mama."

Emma walked over to the bed, watching as her mother continued to go through her closet, occasionally pulling out a garment to which Emma would smile and say, "That's pretty."

To say she was drained was a grave understatement. Losing her father was bad enough, but having to recount the story every few hours to her mother almost felt like some sick form of torture.

Each time Emma would remind her mother of their loss, her eyes were sheen with tears and hope, wishing she would finally remember. Barbara would look at her, surprised, for several moments before crying furiously. They would spend half an hour or so reminiscing, and then the older woman's face would go blank, forgetting everything that had just happened.

Emma sighed, realizing that maybe it was a good thing that her mother didn't remember. That way she didn't have to feel the pain Emma was experiencing.

Emma quickly shut her eyes, willing away the tears, when she felt the bed squeak under her as her mother sat down beside her.

"Emmy, what's wrong?" she asked, placing a hand on Emma's knee, dumbfounded as to why her daughter was suddenly crying.

Plastering a smile onto her face and drying her eyes quickly, Emma placed her hand over her mother's. "I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back, okay?"

The older woman nodded, leaning over to place a gentle kiss to Emma's temple, smiling sadly as she exited the room.

Emma quickly made her way downstairs and onto the back porch. She walked over to the railing, gripping it until her knuckles were white, and bawled her eyes out.

She stopped abruptly, when she felt a small hand on hers. She opened her eyes and found her niece, Olivia, looking up sadly at her.

"I'm sad, too, Auntie Em," the little girl said quietly. Emma couldn't help but smile at the nickname she had been dubbed with moments into watching "The Wizard of Oz" with Olivia years before.

Realizing she hadn't responded in any way, Emma crouched down and pulled Olivia in for a tight hug. She felt little tears spill onto her shoulder and she closed her eyes, trying to be strong for the little girl in her arms.

After a few moments, they mutually pulled away and Emma leaned forward to kiss Olivia's forehead. "Where's your mommy?"

Olivia pointed back towards the house. "She saw you were out here so she went upstairs to talk to Nana and told me I should come give you a hug."

Emma smiled softly, standing to her full height and taking her niece's hand. "How about we go inside and try to find a snack?"

The six-year-old's eyes lit up instantly and she nodded. "Crying always makes me hungry."

"Me too," Emma said with a smirk.

As they made their way into the kitchen, Emma felt her phone vibrate against her hip. She sighed loudly, hoping it wasn't Carl again. She knew it probably wasn't right to just up and leave without saying anything, but she didn't want to deal with him just yet.

Emma reached into the refrigerator, pulling out a juice box and handing it to Olivia, who sat on a stool behind the kitchen island, before fishing the phone out of her pocket.

Her breath hitched a little when she saw Will's name across the small screen above a picture of an envelope that read "1 New Message." She flipped open her phone, opening the message.

_Are you okay?_

Emma couldn't help but smile at the simple text. She sat down in the stool beside Olivia, and began punching in her reply.

"Who ya' talkin' to?" Olivia asked curiously, leaning over.

Emma smirked at the girl, and pulled her phone to her chest, hiding the screen playfully. "A boy."

The little girl bounced in her seat, her light brown pigtails doing the same. "Ooh! Is he your boyfriend?"

"Ye—" Emma stopped, immediately correcting herself. "No, uh, he's just a really good friend."

"Your _best_ friend?" Olivia questioned, emphasizing the word "best" dramatically.

"When did you get so nosy?" Emma asked with a smile. She tickled the girl's sides a bit and then answered quietly.

"Yeah, he's my best friend."

Olivia nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, well tell him I said hi!"

"Knock, knock!"

Emma stood from her seat, taking Olivia's hand as she hopped down from the stool, walking into the living room, where her older sister and brother-in-law had just entered.

"Auntie Chrissy! Uncle James!" exclaimed Olivia, darting happily towards her aunt and uncle.

Emma's brother-in-law, James, put a finger to his lips silently, motioning to the sleeping babies in his arms. Olivia's mouth dropped and she nodded in understanding. He waved slightly at Emma before making his way upstairs to lay the newborn twin boys down.

Christine instead smiled, reaching down to hug Olivia. "Jeez, I can't believe how much you've grown!"

Olivia grinned proudly and placed a kiss on her aunt's cheek, then skipping back into the kitchen to retrieve her juice box.

The eyes of the Pillsbury sisters met and were instantly glossy with tears. Emma looked down, avoiding her sister's gaze.

"Oh, Em," the older of the two said, taking a step forward. Emma shut her eyes tightly as she felt tears stinging her eyes, begging to be released. Christine reached forward and pulled her younger sister into a tight embrace, feeling a bit relieved when she returned the hug.

"I'm sorry that _this_ is the reason we're seeing each other again. I missed you so much," she whispered softly. Guilt overcame Emma as she realized just how long it had been since she had last seen her family. She bit her lip, burying her face in her sister's long auburn hair.

"Me too."

* * *

Emma let out a long breath as she stepped out of the steamy bathroom, dressed in her pajama pants and a light tank top. It had been a few days since she had taken a legitimate shower, a proper shower, an Emma Pillsbury shower.

She sat down cross-legged on the bottom bunk of the bed she had shared with Christine so many years ago, running a brush through her wet locks, when her phone vibrated loudly on the adjacent nightstand.

Dropping the brush onto the bed, Emma quickly reached over for the phone. Her face dramatically drooped in disappointment when she saw who had texted her.

_Babe, call me when u can. Will told me what happened, Im so sorry._

Emma stared at the message for a few moments before shutting her phone. Her brow furrowed slightly. How had Carl even gotten a hold of Will?

_Records at the dentist's office,_ her mind instantly answered.

She closed her eyes, rubbing her fingers against her temples. Quickly making a decision, she re-opened the phone and quickly dialed a number.

_Please go to voicemail, please go to voicemail._

"Emma! I've been so worried, are you okay?"

_Damn it._

She was too busy internally cursing that she hadn't bothered to answer him.

"Emma?"

"What? Oh," she leaned back on the mattress, the bed springs squeaking slightly beneath her. "Yeah, Carl, I'm…I'm okay."

"Why didn't you tell me what had happened, sweetie? I could have gone with you."

"No!" Emma blurted out instantly. "Um, no, I just," she stopped, slightly cringing at the pet name.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, and that I haven't called. Everything happened so quickly, and I've been so busy here making arrangements and all that, I haven't had time to call," she breathed quickly into the phone, impressing even herself with her answer.

It wasn't entirely a lie; Emma had found herself occupied choosing floral arrangements, a casket, a suit for her father to wear (despite the fact that the ceremony was going to be a closed-casket one as her father's wounds had been too gruesome to display), and dozens of other minute details for the funeral, all while having to repeat the story and relive the pain of her father's death to her mother; but to say that she hadn't had any time to call…well, that was a stretch.

"It's alright," Carl said softly, bringing Emma out of her reverie. "I just wish I could be there for you."

Emma nodded into the phone. "I know…"

They remained silent for a few moments, Emma's eyes closing as her exhaustion began to overwhelm her. She opened her mouth to end the conversation when Carl softly said, "I love you."

Emma had to refrain from letting out an exasperated breath. Carl had admitted several weeks ago that he loved her, and when she guiltily explained that she wasn't sure that she felt the same, he told her it was no problem, and proceeded to tell her every chance he got, thinking the more she heard it, the more she would feel it towards him.

"I- I've got to go, Carl," she sighed.

"Right…"

Emma frowned, not being able to fight back the guilt she felt hearing the tinge of hurt in his voice, but he quickly masked it.

"Okay, I'll talk to you soon, then?"

She could almost hear his forced smile through the phone. "Sure."

They exchanged brief goodbyes, and Emma frowned, running a hand over her tired face.

_What the hell am I doing?_

_

* * *

_

He awoke with a start, pain instantly shooting up his neck.

Will groaned and placed his hand at the base of his head, rubbing it, as he rotated his neck, relishing in the four loud pops. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned and looked down at his digital watch.

_2:49 AM_

His eyes widened slightly at the time, not realizing he had been asleep for so long. After pushing himself up from the couch and stretching his back, Will bent forward slightly, reaching for his phone that lay discarded on the table.

He quickly made his way around the apartment, turning off all the lights. He yawned and lazily climbed out of his jeans and into bed, too exhausted to actually change into proper pajamas.

He perked up a bit as he flipped open his phone, noticing he had a new message.

_I'm alright, drained though. I'm just anxious to be home already... How's school? Glee? Oh, my niece says hi._

Will frowned a bit at the thought of Emma being so "drained," but he knew it's what came with the situation at hand.

Remembering the news report from earlier that night, he smiled slightly as he typed in a response. He placed his phone on his nightstand, ready to succumb to his exhaustion, when he thought of something else.

Grabbing his phone, he deftly composed a second message, sending it out just before he drifted off to sleep…

* * *

**A/N: **Review :D?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **So how 'bout that RHGS? :D Sorry for the delay in getting this up, between midterms and spending my time at the Wemma thread over on GF, I've been distracted :P Anyway, enjoy the chapter. As soon as I get through midterms, I'll update x)

* * *

She dabbed the corners of her eyes once more with a napkin, mentally chastising herself for not purchasing waterproof make-up. Smoothing her hands over her black pencil skirt and taking a deep breath, Emma stepped out of her bedroom, quickly grabbing her cell phone and purse that lay on the nightstand.

Her heels clicked rhythmically on the wooden floor as she walked towards her mother's bedroom. She rapped her fist on the door lightly, pushing it open.

"Mama? Are you up?"

Emma stepped further into the dark room, straining to see. She walked over to the window, pulling open the blinds.

She faced the bed and smiled softly at her mother, sleeping peacefully. Emma took a step and squatted down beside her, shaking her arm gently.

"Mama, we've got to go in a bit. You've got to get up."

Barbara's eyes fluttered open. "Hm… oh, morning, Emmy," she said sleepily.

"Morning, Mama," Emma said quietly, pressing a kiss to her mother's forehead. She helped her mother stand from the bed, then made her way over to the closet, grabbing the black dress they had picked out the day before for the occasion.

"Em, where are we going? And where's your father? He's been gone for hours now," Barbara asked, stepping back into the room, after leaving to brush her teeth.

With her back to her mother, Emma shut her eyes tightly, trying desperately to hold in her tears. She bit her lip and turned, handing her mother the garment. "We're going to church."

Barbara blinked at her daughter blankly before taking the dress. "Oh, well, I have much better dresses than this for church!"

With a smile, she quickly brushed past Emma and began digging through her closet. "What do you think of this one, Emmy?"

Emma frowned at the bright yellow dress her mother was holding out. Her gaze met her mother's cheerful one and her face turned red with frustration.

"No, Mama, we picked out this one," she said quickly, motioning to the black dress that lay, discarded, on the bed. "Remember?"

Barbara's brow furrowed as she tried to remember when they had picked out the dress. "We never picked out a dress," she said, shaking her head. "Besides, your father loves this one. Where is he again?"

Emma clenched her fists at her sides, trying her best to keep her cool. "We're-we're going to see him now, Mama. Please, just put on this dress."

"But Emma, this one's more appropriate for the day," her mother said with a bright smile.

Emma's eyes widened. "More appropriate for the day?"

"Yes, for church, dear. You only wear black to mass if you're going to a funeral," she laughed softly, turning back to face the closet.

Emma stood there, waiting for her mother to turn in realization, as she had every time this conversation had come up in the past few days. This time, though, that didn't happen, and Barbara stood before her closet, occasionally pulling out a dress to show Emma, blissfully unaware of what was really going on.

"Mama, please," Emma pleaded, a single tear making its way down her face, as her mother pulled out a green dress, wearing a hopeful smile.

She instantly stopped at the sight of her daughter crying. "Oh, Em, what's wrong?"

Emma took her mother's hand and guided her to the bed. They sat and Emma closed her eyes, squeezing her mother's hand as she explained to her mother, for what seemed like the hundredth time that week, where they were really going.

* * *

"Is she ready?"

Emma looked up from her seat on the couch at her sister-in –law, Paula, who was descending the stairs. "I think so. Christine's in there now, helping her with her hair."

Paula nodded, her blonde hair bobbing along, and took a seat beside her on the couch. "You look exhausted already."

"Really?" Emma asked, letting out a bitter chuckle. "I thought I was doing a good job at hiding it."

"The cops are here," James said quietly into the living room, stepping back outside to greet the officers.

Giving Emma's hand a small squeeze, Paula stood and quickly moved to get Olivia who was upstairs watching television.

Emma sighed and rose from the couch, running her hands over her black skirt once more. She quickly reached down for her purse, her cell phone falling out of it. She cursed quietly and scooped up her phone from the floor.

She glanced at it, noticing she had two new messages. She gasped a little, forgetting that she had texted Will the night before. Fumbling with the phone slightly in anticipation, she quickly opened the first text.

_You don't want to be back in boring old Lima... Be strong tomorrow, your family needs you._

Emma bit her lip, holding back tears. With shaking hands she opened the second text, also from Will, to her surprise.

_You can always call me if you need to talk about anything._

She stared at the message for a few moments, a small smile making its way onto her lips. Somehow, knowing Will was there to support her, even 400 miles away, was enough to give her the strength to carry on through the day.

Will awoke with a start. Checking the watch he had lazily left on the night before, he cursed, realizing he only had half an hour to get ready and get to school.

He quickly showered and changed, making it to school in the nick of time. It was only then that he checked his phone, hoping for a response from Emma. He plopped himself down in his chair, disappointed that he hadn't heard from her yet.

As the bell rang and students began tiredly filing in, murmuring quietly, Will sighed, knowing it was going to be a long day for both Emma and him.

* * *

"Mr. Schuester? Mr. Schue!"

"Sorry, what?" Will said, suddenly brought back to reality.

"How was that?" Rachel questioned excitedly from the stage.

Will blinked and nodded, forcing a small smile. "It was great, guys."

While the group on stage collectively cheered, high-fiving and hugging one another, Will found himself feeling terribly guilty for not paying attention to them. He glanced down at the phone lying on the table before him, remembering why he wasn't too focused on the kids today.

_Come on, Em. Just one text…_ he willed silently.

"Mr. Schue?"

He looked up at the stage once more. "Oh… what?"

"Do you want us to run it again?" Finn questioned, curiosity and concern in his eyes.

"Um," Will started, standing from his chair. "No, I think you guys deserve the afternoon off. Just relax for the next few days, you've all been working really hard."

The kids cheered again and began making their way out of the auditorium. Will smirking as Artie rolled across the stage in his chair and loudly calling out, "Preach!"

"Have a good weekend. I'll see you Monday," Will said to the already-in-weekend-mode group.

He dropped back down in his chair, his elbows coming up to rest on the desk, pressing the heels of his palms in his eyes.

He had spent the majority of the day completely out of it; uncharacteristically assigning his students bookwork as opposed to actually teaching them, not retaliating when Sue repeatedly poked fun at his "over-gelled coon skin cap he called hair," unintentionally ignoring Coach Bieste when she had greeted him in the hall, and—his stomach quickly reminded him with a loud growl—skipping lunch entirely.

Will pinched the bridge of his nose and started packing up his bag, noting that he hadn't had dinner last night either and figuring he should order some take-out to pick up on his way home. His stomach growled again, loudly, and he stood, flipping open his phone to call his favorite Chinese restaurant.

He dialed quickly, having committed the number to memory years before, and just as he was about to hit the green send button, his phone vibrated roughly in his hand. His eyes widened, seeing the familiar name and number flash across the screen, and he instantly answered.

"Em," he breathed into the phone.

Emma closed her mouth tightly, trying vainly to hold back the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Hey."

"H-how are you? How is everything?" Will asked, placing his bag back on the table.

"I'm," she paused, searching for the right word. "Exhausted more than anything."

Will paced up and down the auditorium aisle, concerned. "Oh, should I let you go? You've had a long day, you should probably—"

"No," Emma interrupted hastily, stepping out onto the back porch and blushing slightly. "I'm kind of in the mood to talk to someone who won't treat me like I'm about to break."

Will smirked, glad that she had refused his offer, and even more glad that she had decided to call.

"How was today?" he asked cautiously.

Emma sighed into the phone, sitting down on the top step of the white porch. "The ceremony was beautiful, really. Lots of people around, so I almost had a panic attack at all the people I had to shake hands with or hug, though."

Will chuckled softly, causing Emma to do the same.

"How's glee?" she asked, her hands lightly fingering the ruffles on her black blouse as she admired the setting sun in the distance.

"Uh, it's good," Will answered, still walking about the auditorium. "The kids pretty much have the routine down, but I can't let them get too comfortable since there's still two weeks left before the competition."

Emma nodded. "That's good."

"Yeah…"

They both fell silent, unsure of what to say next. Will stopped pacing and sat in one of the auditorium seats. He hesitated before finally asking, "How's your family?"

Will could almost feel Emma tense on the other end. He was about to apologize for asking when she answered quietly.

"They're okay. My niece, Olivia, was a little sad, but as soon as we got to the reception and she saw food, she was alright," she said with a small smirk.

Will chuckled and remembered the first text he'd received from her. "Is she the one who said hi to me?"

"Yeah, that's her," Emma smiled. "She's great."

Will smirked and brought his feet up to rest over the back of the seat in front of him. "And everyone else?"

Emma bit her lip thoughtfully. "Well my nephews are a little under a month old so they don't even understand what's going on; my sister was a mess, but her husband was great…really supportive."

"That's good," Will said softly, playing with a loose thread on his vest.

"Yeah…"

They fell into another silence and Will's brow furrowed in sympathy. He opened his mouth to say something, when Emma beat him to it.

"I think my mom finally understands…"

Will frowned. "What do you mean?"

Emma closed her eyes, leaning sideways against the white wooden railing. "N-nothing."

"I'm glad you called, Em," Will said quickly, trying to change the subject for her sake.

She bit her lip and nodded. "Me too."

"I thought you'd forgotten about me," he quipped with a small smile, hoping to elicit one from her as well.

The corners of her mouth twitched up into a tiny smile and she shook her head. "I don't think I could ever forget about you, Will Schuester."

Will's breath hitched in his throat slightly at her use of his name. He was pretty certain that his name had never sounded so good—at least not in reality. He smirked to himself, recalling the dream he had had the night before, where Emma had repeated his name over and over... After their encounter on Monday night, Will had found himself craving her touch more than ever.

"I wish you were here, Will."

Suddenly ripped out of his thoughts, Will realized he _hadn't_ imagined what she had just said. His eyes softened with concern and he tightened his grip on his phone.

"So do I, Em."

Emma shut her eyes tighter, feeling tears starting to form behind her eyelids. She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and brushed her bangs out of her face, noticing she liked it much better when Will did it for her.

"Auntie Em! Do you want some ice cream? Mommy and Nana and Uncle James and Auntie Chrissy are having some, too! There's pistachio, Nana says that's your favorite!"

Emma turned to face the girl and shot her a tiny smile. "No thanks, Liv."

Olivia's mouth formed a tiny 'o' when she noticed her aunt was on the phone. "Are you talking to your best friend?"

Emma's eyes widened a bit, realizing Will could probably hear what was happening. She knew Will considered her a good friend (or at least he did when they were actually on speaking terms, in—what Emma liked to call—the pre-Carl era), but they had never labeled each other _best _friends…well, at least not to the other's face. Unable to say anything, she simply nodded at the little girl.

"Ooh! What's his name? Tell him I say hi!" Olivia said with a grin and a wave.

Emma smiled, turning the phone slightly away from her mouth. "His name's Will."

"Hi Will!" Olivia called loudly with another wave, before she turned and ran back into the house.

Emma turned, facing the backyard once more, at the sound of Will's soft laughter. She felt her face flush in embarrassment. "Sorry about that."

"Auntie Em?" he asked, still laughing.

She couldn't help but grin, realizing it was the first time she had really done so in days. "Shut up, Will."

"Pistachio ice cream, huh?"

They spent the next few minutes exchanging stories about Olivia, the glee cub, ice cream, and "The Wizard of Oz," their conversation lighter, less awkward.

"So when do you get back?" Will finally asked, leaning back in auditorium seat.

"Um," Emma paused, thinking. "Sunday night, around 8."

Will bit down on the inside of his cheek nervously. "Do-do you need a ride from the airport? I know how much you don't like taxis."

Emma blinked several times, considering the proposition. It was true, she did hate taxis and the fact that they were crawling in germs from the hundreds of people that rode in them every day. She felt her throat tightening and her palms starting to sweat at the thought…

"Emm—?"

"Yes," she said instantly. "Yes, you can pick me up."

Will stood from his seat and began walking—or rather, dancing—his way back to his original spot to grab his bag. He didn't even bother to hide the grin that had made its way onto his face.

"Sounds good. I'll see you Sunday, then?"

Emma nodded into the phone, feeling Will's smile radiate through the phone wires. "I'll call you when I land."

They quickly said goodnight to each other, each looking forward to Sunday night more than they would ever admit.

* * *

**A/N: **Review :D? Yes? Yes.


	4. Chapter 4

"They're beautiful, Chris," Emma said quietly, running her fingers through baby Peter's soft hair, glancing over at his twin brother, Nicholas, every few seconds.

"I'm glad you finally got to meet them," Christine said with a smile. "And I'm glad their messes haven't been getting to you."

Emma chuckled, looking up at her sister. "They're actually pretty clean…as far as babies go."

Christine cocked her head slightly, smiling sympathetically at Emma. "No, really, Em. You seem to be doing a lot better with your," she paused, looking for the right word, "problems."

Emma smirked inwardly, grateful that the room was dark for the most part, shielding the flattered blush in her cheeks from her sister. They stood in a comfortable silence for several moments before Christine leaned over and nudged her shoulder.

"I can tell you've been getting some help. Is it from that dentist you've been seeing?"

The smile on Emma's face faded quickly. Even in the dark, she knew exactly the expression Christine had on at that moment. It was the same suggestive grin that had played on her lips with Emma had come home from her first real party in the seventh grade, and she had drilled her younger sister with questions about her experience with "7 Minutes in Heaven," where she promptly learned that Emma had freaked out and ran out of the musky closet when their braces-clad neighbor had tried to kiss her.

Emma shut her eyes at the memory. "Uh, yeah, I guess so. He's a good…distraction." _Distraction from Wi—_

"Any wedding bells ringing?"

Emma's eyes widened suddenly at her sister's question. "Oh, gosh, I—I don't know about that. I mean Carl's very nice, and clean, too, but…oh, I… gosh, I don't—"

"Emma," Christine interrupted with a chuckle, placing her hand on her sister's shoulder. "It's okay, I was just joking."

"Joking, right. Of course," Emma said meekly, rubbing her slightly sweaty palms against her pajama pants.

Christine laughed once more and suggested they leave the room as to not accidentally wake her sons. Emma quickly agreed, trying to get her mind to stop running at a mile a minute, and the two made their way downstairs into the kitchen where Christine began preparing tea for the two of them.

"Tired?" Christine asked, noticing Emma try to stifle back a yawn.

Emma nodded, sitting herself down on one of the stools at the kitchen island. "It was a long day."

It was Christine's turn to nod as they both recalled the events of the day. Emma bit her lip, feeling the tears start to form at the back of her eyes. She was sick of crying, sick of feeling empty, like a part of her had been ripped out. She shut her eyes and held her breath, holding on tightly to the empty ceramic mug her sister had just placed before her, as if it were the only thing giving her life.

"You don't have to feel guilty, Em," Christine began softly, her accent seeping into her calm voice. "He never once was upset that you didn't visit."

Emma's brow scrunched together as the first sob escaped her mouth. "I just left and never came back. I—I didn't mean to, to not visit, but I just—"

"Emma, look at me," Christine paused, taking a chance and placing her palm on her sister's teary cheek. "Look at me."

Emma's eyes opened and she bit her lip, holding back another sob.

"Daddy loved you. A lot," Christine started slowly, wiping away several stray tears. "I think he loved you most, actually, because you were the baby," she continued with a teary smirk. "And you spent way more time with him than Robbie and I did."

Emma smiled slightly, knowing her sister was right about that last part. As most teenagers did, Christine and her brother, Robbie, had spent most of their time avoiding their parents and with their friends; but Emma, having been so revolted by the thought of spending time with peers who didn't live up to her hygienic standards, had spent every weekend with her father.

"You had a special relationship," Christine said, bringing Emma out of her thoughts. "And the fact that you decided you were going to go out and be an adult, and experience your new life in a place that had no bad memories doesn't change that fact."

Emma's heart swelled at her sister's words. It had been a difficult decision, deciding to move to Lima, one that had taken her weeks to finally settle upon. She was nearing 26 when the job opening at William McKinley High reared its tempting head at her. Every other week Emma had changed her decision about moving, when finally her father confronted her about it.

"I want you to live, bug," he had said, his southern drawl lacing his gruff voice. "I don't want you worryin' about the little things. I'm not sayin' I won't be sad you're gone, and I'm not trying to kick you out, but, sweet pea, you're ready."

And with those words, Emma had found the strength to pick up and start a new chapter in her life.

She looked up at her sister, who was now crying with her, and placed her hand over Christine's. Christine smiled and leaned forward, allowing their foreheads to touch lightly. They remained connected for a moment until the shrill whistling of the tea kettle reverberated through the room.

Emma watched as Christine prepared their teas, smiling when she noticed her sister pull out a measuring spoon into which she started squeezing honey, knowing Emma wouldn't take her tea without an exact teaspoon of honey.

"Here," Christine said quietly, handing Emma the warm mug of chamomile tea.

Emma gratefully took it and as soon as she took a sip, she found herself instantly relaxing. The two sisters began chatting up a storm, talking about everything and nothing. Together they moved to the living room and onto the couch, continuing their light chatter about Christine's long labor, how big Olivia had gotten, Emma's improvements with her OCD, and everything in between.

"Oh, gosh," Emma said suddenly, glancing at the red digital numbers on the DVD player glaring 2:37 at them. "I didn't realize it was so late."

Christine looked over at the DVD player. "Jeez, me neither."

Although it was late, and they were both beyond exhausted, neither of them made a move to get up. Truth be told it had been a long time since Emma had felt so comfortable around a family member other than her father. He had been her life line growing up. She had clung to him for dear life and hadn't let go until she was 26, and because of it, she had missed out on a great friendship with her sister, which she was just discovering now.

Emma bit her lip, looking over at her sister, feeling ashamed for all the years she had let slip away, and was surprised to find Christine smiling knowingly at her. She returned the smile and bowed her head, a bit embarrassed.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for several minutes before Christine let out a long sigh.

"I'm calling a nursing home tomorrow."

Emma looked up, baffled. "You're a bit young to be in a home, don't you think?"

"Not for me," Christine chuckled. "For Mama."

Emma's eyes widened and her brow furrowed. "For Mama?"

"Emma," Christine let out with a sigh. "We both know Mama's not well enough to care for herself."

"What are you talking about? She's fine; she forgets things every now and then, but she can take care of herself," Emma said, feeling a bit nauseous as the frustration bubbled inside of her.

Christine shook her head. "Emma, you know it's a lot more serious than that. You know if it wasn't for Daddy, Mama would have never taken her pills."

Emma blinked at her sister and stood from the couch, beginning to pace around the small room. "I- I don't know about this, Christy. Don't you think there's a better solution?"

"I've already thought about this," Christine said, kneading her hands in her lap. "Robbie won't be back from Afghanistan for another six months and Paula's already struggling with Olivia alone, James and I have the boys to worry about, and you—"

"I, what?" Emma interrupted, stopping where she stood, her voice raising slightly.

Christine opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. She looked away from her sister, suddenly becoming very interested in the hardwood floor.

Emma's eyes narrowed at her sister and her body shook with the realization. "You think I don't care about her."

"What? Emma, I never said—"

"You think just because I spent so much time with Daddy and that I never came back once I left, that I don't..." Emma stopped herself, not being able to finish her statement as she felt the nausea quickly building in her stomach.

"Emma, please," Christine begged softly, standing from the couch. "I didn't say that. We know you're doing your own thing, that's why we decided that a nursing home would be best for Mama."

"We?" Emma almost cringed at the harshness of her voice. "Who's we?"

Christine looked away from her sister for a moment before continuing. "Me a-and James, and Paula."

Emma felt her cheeks reddening with frustration. "So basically everyone gets a say in this except me?"

"Emma, I—"

"They're not even related to her, Christine!" the tiny redhead exclaimed suddenly, her fists clenching at her sides. "How can you make a decision about what's best for _our_ mother without discussing it with me?"

"We'd discussed this months ago," Christine said, her body tensing with guilt. "I…we just… you were doing-doing your thing in Lima and we just…"

The tearful gazes of the Pillsbury sisters met for a moment until Emma turned away, her back facing her sister.

Had she really been so preoccupied in her own life, her own problems, that she had neglected her family entirely? Emma shut her eyes tightly and crossed her arms over her chest, swallowing back an onslaught of tears.

"I'm scared, Em."

Emma looked over her shoulder at her sister, who had tears falling freely down her face, her body trembling slightly. She turned her body fully to face Christine, her arms dropping dramatically to her sides. She didn't say anything, only shooting her sister a look letting her know to continue.

"I'm scared Mama's going to forget us again."

Emma's eyes widened, almost entirely having forgotten the days when she had woken up to the sound of her mother screaming terrifyingly...

She had quickly dashed out of her room and into her parents' to find her mother curled into a shrieking ball on the floor in one corner of the room, sobbing, while her father stood on the opposite end of the bedroom, his arms held out in front of him in defense, trying calmly to console his wife.

"Daddy, what's going on?" Emma had asked, her eyes wide with shock, barely noticing as Christine and Robbie entered the room behind her.

"Nothing, baby," Robert Pillsbury had answered, not taking his eyes off of his wife.

Just as Emma had opened her mouth to contest that, a piercing yell reached her ears.

"Who _are_ you?"

Emma's brow had furrowed as she glanced back and forth between her mother and father. "Daddy?"

"Darlin' can you just give us a—"

"Get out!"

Robert Pillsbury and his children had all jumped at the forcefulness in Barbara's tone, and they all quickly made their way out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

It had taken three hours for Barbara to finally exhaust herself from crying and as soon as he had heard the sobs cease, Robert had quietly entered the room, lifting his wife from the floor with ease and carrying her to the bed.

She had awoken several hours later and it was as if nothing had happened. The Pillsbury children had held their breaths when they noticed their mother descending the stairs, a cheery smile on her face, but Barbara had only asked the children why they were staring at her, briefly reminding them that it was rude to do so.

That dreadful experience had occurred two times following that when Robert had finally decided to consult a doctor about it, where they had told him to bring his wife in for a head scan.

Barbara, who was still oblivious to her rageful fits, had been told it was the new standard practice to have a head scan when you went in for a physical, and thus had graciously cooperated with the doctor.

The Pillsburies had then promptly been informed that Barbara had a form of early-onset Alzheimer's. Her mouth had dropped slightly, baffled by the revelation, but she took the news in stride. The doctors had continued to tell her that with medication, she could continue to lead a life relatively unaffected by it until she was much older.

And once her mother had begun taking the pills, Emma had never again awoken to her mother's loud cries.

"Emma, say something…please."

At the sound of her sister's voice, Emma blinked, brought out of her reverie.

"I don't want her to revert," Christine said quietly, a stream of tears now flowing down her cheeks. "And…and with James and I busy with the babies, and Paula living an hour away, and you in Ohio, I just don't see any other solution."

Emma's face softened and she unclenched her fists, bringing one hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "She needs the familiarity of the house, though. With Dad go—" she paused, not finding the strength to verbalize that her father was gone. "With Dad not around, it's really all she has."

The flow of Christine's tears slowed a bit and she cleared her throat, taking a seat on the arm of an old recliner. "But she needs someone here to watch over her, make sure she's taking her pills. Come next week, we're all going to be back home. A nursing home is the only option we've got, Em."

Emma paced around the room, her mind quickly considering everything her sister was saying. She opened her mouth, ready to concede, when a thought hit her.

"In-home nurse."

Christine raised an eyebrow. "What do you me—"

"We could hire someone to stay with her…stay with her here, and make sure she takes her pills and maybe drives her to get groceries or to her bridge game," Emma blurted out quickly, still pacing, her mind racing. "And she'd still have the house."

Emma looked up at Christine expectantly, happy to find that a small smile was forming on her sister's face.

"That could work."

* * *

Will plopped down on his couch, exhausted. He sighed, using the back of his forearm to wipe away the sweat dampening his brow.

An accomplished smirk began making its way on his face as he glanced around the room. He doubted the apartment had ever been so clean, not even when he had first moved in, nearly a year after his divorce had been finalized.

He glanced down at his watch, his eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been cleaning for nearly four hours. He wasn't even entirely sure why he had decided to clean. Sure, he was picking Emma up from the airport, but that didn't exactly mean she was coming over. Still, the nagging image of Emma stepping into his apartment and frowning in disgust at its cleanliness - or lack thereof- was enough to convince him to clean the small apartment from top to bottom.

Flipping on the television, Will became engrossed in a baseball game. It wasn't until the bottom of the seventh when he realized he had to be at the airport in an hour. He jumped up from his seat on the couch, cursing quietly, and quickly made his way to the shower, all the while smiling at the prospect of seeing Emma.

* * *

"I'll miss you, Emmy."

Emma looked up at her mother, who was standing in the doorway smiling sadly at her youngest child, her right hand resting over her heart- a habit Emma had picked up from her. Returning the small smile, Emma stepped away from her open suitcase and towards her mother, uncharacteristically pulling her in for a hug.

"I'll miss you, too, Mama."

"Will you visit?" Barbara Pillsbury questioned quietly when they pulled away after a few moments.

Emma nodded, promising to her mother and to herself that she'd return before either of them knew it, before quickly walking back to her suitcase, zipping it up, and following her mother downstairs.

"Auntie Em, look!"

Emma looked over at Olivia, who stood from her position on the couch beside James and bounded across the room towards her, a paper flopping in her hand as she ran.

"I drew you a picture," Olivia said brightly, holding the paper up to her aunt.

Emma crouched down to Olivia's height and took the drawing from her niece. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying vainly to hide the smile that was beginning to tug at the corners of her lips.

"It's you! See!" Olivia said happily, leaning over and indicating the drawing of a girl wearing a dress with bright orange hair. "And there's Will!"

Emma grinned brightly at the piece of paper in her hands as Olivia pointed to a drawing of a boy standing beside the crayon version of herself.

"I don't know what color hair he has, but Uncle James said lots of boys have brown hair," Olivia quickly added.

Emma remained squatted before her niece, not saying a word, a bit overwhelmed at the six-year-old's simple gesture.

"Do you like it?"

Emma quickly looked up at Olivia, whose eyes were glimmering with pride and slight worry.

"I love it, Liv," Emma said quietly, reaching forward and tucking a strand of her niece's hair behind her ear. "And guess what?"

Olivia shrugged as her eyes lit up with curiosity.

"Will's hair _is_ brown."

The six-year-old grinned, pleased with her decision. She jumped forward, pulling her aunt in for a hug. Emma smiled and placed a soft kiss to the top of the girl's head.

"Hey, Em, we've got to get you to the airport," Paula called, stepping into the room.

Emma nodded up at her sister-in-law, pulling back from her niece. Her eyes widened slightly noticing that Olivia's eyes were now glazed with tears.

"Hey," Emma said softly, placing a hand on Olivia's tiny shoulder. "What's wrong?"

The girl pouted and refused to meet Emma's eye. "Olivia... Liv, what's wrong?"

Olivia looked up at her aunt as several tears began streaming down her face. "I don't want you to go."

"I..." Emma stopped, feeling like someone had punched her in the gut. Her heart broke watching Olivia tremble as more tears came sliding down her pink cheeks.

"Hey," she finally said, pulling Olivia in for another hug. "Don't cry."

She leaned back, holding her niece by her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "Mommy taught you how to use a phone, right?"

Olivia sniffled and nodded.

"Well she has my phone number so you can call me whenever you want. How does that sound?" Emma asked quietly.

Olivia looked away, considering the offer. "Whenever I want?"

A smile began forming on Emma's face, and she chuckled as she answered, "Whenever you want."

"Well... I guess that's okay then," Olivia finally answered, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater.

Emma smiled, standing to her full height and taking Olivia's hand and dragging her suitcase behind her as she walked towards the front door, where the rest of her family stood, ready to see her off.

Christine stepped forward, hugging Emma tightly. "I better see you at some point before I'm a grandmother."

Emma smiled as they mutually stepped back. "I think I can manage that."

* * *

Will rocked back and forth on his heels, suddenly regretting not wearing a coat. In his haste to get to the airport, he'd only thrown on a cardigan over his white t-shirt; a poor defense against the chilly November air.

Leaning back against the passenger door of his car, Will checked his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time. 7:54, it read. He leaned up, craning his neck over the taxis and the mob of people entering and exiting through the sliding double doors, when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He quickly retrieved it and flipped it open, not even bothering to hide his smile.

"Hey."

"Hi."

Will held the phone tightly to his ear. "You landed already?"

"Yeah," Emma said softly. "I'm headed outside now."

Sure enough, as Will stood up a bit straighter and focused his eyes on the doors, he saw her. His breath caught in his throat a bit as he watched her nervously scan her eyes around the crowd, presumably looking for him.

"Look a little to your right," Will instructed with a smirk.

Emma's eyes darted over until her brown eyes met Will's hazel ones.

Will smiled a bit, still holding the phone to his ear, and waved slightly at her, his breath hitching when she smiled back at him. He watched as she tightened her grip on her bag and began walking towards him, careful to avoid any contact with anyone else.

"Hi," Emma said once she reached him.

"Hi," Will answered, quickly berating himself mentally as he realized just how lame he sounded.

_Really, Will? 'Hi' is all you could come up with?_

"We match."

Will blinked at her, suddenly brought out of his thoughts. He looked down, noting his periwinkle cardigan and her periwinkle top before meeting her eyes again. She was biting her lip trying to refrain from smiling.

"We do," Will said with a chuckle, vaguely remembering a time long ago when she had uttered the same statement under very different circumstances...circumstances in which their friendship was just blossoming.

Emma smirked up at him, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Maybe we should plan out our outfits to avoid this."

She felt her heart race as Will laughed lightly and shook his head. "Maybe it's a sign that-"

Will closed his mouth abruptly, noting Emma's widened eyes, careful not to say anything incriminating.

_A sign that we should be together. A sign that you belong with me._

_"_A-a sign that great minds think alike," Will stumbled. Emma shot him a small, relieved smirk, and he added smoothly, "And a sign that we have great taste in clothes."

Emma chuckled. As she opened her mouth to say something, a violent gust of wind blew, and she shivered. Will quickly shook his head.

"Oh, sorry. We should probably get you out of here."

Emma nodded, allowing Will to take her bag from her, averting her gaze from his jean-clad backside as he bent over to place it in the back seat of his car.

She stepped back as Will returned to his full height, holding open the passenger door for her. Biting her lip, she stepped into his car, and smiled as she watched him shut her door and jog around the front of the car.

"Thanks again, Will," Emma told him once he had seated himself in the driver's seat.

Will looked over at her and smiled. "Don't worry about it, Em. You know I'd do anything for you." His cheeks reddened instantly, realizing what he had just said, and he turned away from her, putting the car in drive.

Emma smiled down at her hands resting in her lap, grateful that her hair had fallen in her face, concealing her pink cheeks. She glanced over at Will, who- she knew- was internally chastising himself, and opened her mouth to say something when her phone vibrated roughly in her pocket.

As Will pulled up to a red light, he looked over at Emma briefly, his throat tightening as he watched her squirm, frustrated, in her seat trying to pull her cell phone out of her jeans. Only Emma could make such a silly action look so adorable and sexy at the same time.

Emma stared down at the name on the phone's screen, not sure if she wanted to take the call, but knowing she should. She looked over at Will, who quickly looked ahead and continued driving, pretending he hadn't been staring at her.

She flipped the phone in her hands several times before finally answering. "Hello?"

"Emma, hey."

"Hey, Carl," she answered quietly, shooting another glance over at Will, who had visibly tensed.

"How are you? Did you get home okay?"

Emma smiled a little at the concern Carl showed for her, and thought out her answer before finally saying, "I'm alright, a bit tired from the flight. I'm on my way home now."

"You're in a taxi?" Carl asked with an incredulous laugh.

"No, I'm not," Emma said quietly, shutting her eyes and biting her lip. Awkward silence surrounded her- on the phone with Carl and in the car with Will- and she quickly found herself feeling more and more uncomfortable as seconds went by. "Listen, Carl, I'll call you later-"

"You're with Will, aren't you?"

Emma cringed at the harshness in his voice. "Carl, I just-"

"It's fine. Just call me later," he interrupted abruptly.

"O-okay. I-"

"Bye, Em."

And with that, the conversation was over. Emma flipped her phone closed, and turned, looking out of the window, tears pricking at her eyes. She knew Carl cared about her, and she cared for him, too; and she knew he didn't deserve to have his girlfriend running around with an ex- if Will could even be counted as an ex- but to give up Will meant giving up her best friend, and she wasn't sure that was fair to herself or to Will.

Carl had always been good about respecting her friendship with Will... until she had told him about rehearsing "Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me" with Will. He had been furious, wondering how she "could have been so stupid, so blind," and Emma had trembled on her couch in tears, repeating that it was a lapse of judgment and that it meant nothing- whether she had been trying to convince Carl or herself, she wasn't sure.

Eventually he had calmed down enough to gently tell her that he would appreciate it if she didn't talk to him outside of school and glee. Emma had complied, nodding vigorously at the time, not wanting to lose Carl.

He was sweet, he was stable, he was clean, he was handsome, he was _safe._

On paper, Carl was everything she should have wanted. She shook her head slightly.

_Carl _is_ what I want,_ she commanded herself to think. _He's a good man..._

Emma looked up, realizing they were parked outside of her apartment complex and she quickly wondered how long she had been lost in her thoughts. She looked over at Will, who was staring down dejectedly at his hands and clenching and unclenching his jaw, the orange dim of the street lamps outside casting a glow on his face.

Feeling her eyes on him, Will looked over at Emma- that special look he saved only for her, and she felt her resolve quickly break.

At that moment, Emma Pillsbury finally admitted to herself for the first time in almost a year, that Will Schuester was the only man she wanted.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey, guys! Sorry about the delay- you know how life can get- but I hope I made it up to you with a nearly 5,000 word chapter! I want to say thank you to everyone who has given me feedback on this story, it really, really means a lot and you guys are all amazing :) Anyway, I'm not too thrilled with the way I ended this chapter, but I'm trying to get this posted for you all ASAP, so you'll have to excuse that :P Thanks again for all your kind words!

Review :D?


End file.
